It's that jet sound

I don't know what it is but it's that Jet sound that zaps so many memories into my head. I realize now not only the cabin but also my granparents house around winter time. What is it? Is it the dryness of the air combined with the temperature? Or is it just a coincidence of proximity of places to jet paths. To be honest I don't think the jets happened at my grandparents house though I could be wrong. It might be the air, subdivision and quietness that matches the energy here. So funny that even though we have made the jump to a different region this region is still very much connected to and a part of the southern california region. I almost feel like I am exploring the utter most outskirts of my homeland. Which is true when you look at climate similarities, weather patterns and Trader Joe's distribution paths! Hehe, how about that. Just an existential trip into the back country.

And even though we are connected to the rest of country (see the in-n-out waffle house metaphor) I thing geographically we are much more separated. The landscape change between here and the coast is very gradual, you gradually wean yourself into the desert and there are no sudden transitions. While you experience a quicker transition by simply driving up the 17 to Flagstaff! And though I haven't been on the road in a while (or at least looked out the window) I'm pretty sure the change between here and the rest is more abrupt. I mean come on, who's winter matches who's?